


Nomen Usoris

by managerie



Series: Asylum [2]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Episode: s02e22 God Mode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 22:43:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7408126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/managerie/pseuds/managerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6064909/chapters/13901827">Ignis Fatuus</a>. Might want to read that one first.<br/>This story takes place the following morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nomen Usoris

**Author's Note:**

> Beta Read by Blue_Finch

~ * ~

John Reese woke to an empty bed with Harold’s side gone cold. It was five in the morning, John’s usual time to wake. Harold sometimes had trouble sleeping. However, John was up with shoes on and his gun in hand immediately. He crept to the door, cracked it open to the living room of the one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn that was their home for the night. Harold’s voice drifted through the air- it was calm, his teaching voice. Was Harold talking to The Machine? That happened more and more nowadays, but John heard a murmured answer. Someone’s deep voice, with British tones was responding to Harold.

John couldn't make out what was being said, but he could tell that the mood was light. Harold’s voice, its intonations and emotions were very familiar to John. He knew when Harold was stressed, afraid, or angry just by the hum of that voice. This wasn’t a voice that was in danger.

John returned the safety to _on_ and made his presence known. Harold turned his chair to see his husband in the doorway. Harold was still in his pajamas which meant that no one was actually here in the apartment. It must have been a phone conversation on speakers then. Harold would never be seen in PJ’s by anyone other than John without great protest. It also meant that Harold had been talking for a while if he hadn’t dressed for the day by now. John hoped it wasn’t a new Number, not this early. Anything before his coffee and yoga was too early.

John slipped the firearm into the pocket of his sweat pants. He never slept in less than a tee and pants with his slip-on shoes and a gun close at hand. At first it made Harold nervous. After three years the older man was either used to it or resigned. Either way Harold didn’t squawk at the bulge in John’s pants that wasn’t from morning wood.

John pecked his husband on the cheek. “Anything I need to worry about?”

Harold smiled and shook his head. “John, I’d like you to meet someone. Well I suppose you’ve met already. Earnest?”

That British voice came out of Harold’s laptop. “Hello, Auxiliary Admin Reese.”

John blinked rapidly. “Earnest? The Machine took a voice?”

Harold smiled. “Yes. He - Earnest’s preferred pronoun - realized I was up for the day around three and asked me why I did not name him. I explained that names are important and I had hoped that one day he would offer his own. So he did. He also decided on a voice to make communication easier should one of us be in a life or death situation without a computer or pay-phone handy.”

John attempted to clear his head. This conversation required coffee. So he went over to the Espresso machine to which every safe house came stocked and started the process of bringing caffeine to his system as he said, “I see that. Why do I feel like I’ve heard this voice before?”

Harold coughed slightly. “Well, Earnest would you like to answer that?”

Earnest said, “Gladly, Father.”

John nearly dropped the jar of coffee grounds at that one.

Earnest continued, “As you may recall I created an identity named _Earnest Thornhill_. This was not without reason. As I did not want to call attention to Father I did not choose a bird species. However, Thornhill, Ontario has a Wild Birds Unlimited store which provides bird seed and other material for birds. As I am a helper to Father I thought this surname appropriate. The first name of Earnest has two meanings for me. The first is the adjective form, ‘resulting from or showing sincere and intense conviction’. This is a quality I strive to hold. It is something you and Father have demonstrated on many occasions.”

John was sipping a double-shot when that revelation fell. He managed to swallow the hot brew without mishap as Earnest carried on, “The second application is a play Father was fond of when training me. The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde was significant in my understanding of humor and human nature. So the name Earnest is an homage of sorts.”

John stepped over to stand next to Harold and look at the laptop as if Earnest was embodied by it which was ridiculous, but they needed to look at something while they spoke to the AI. “Yeah, but the voice?”

Harold was blushing, but silent next to John.

Earnest noted, “I needed a vast sample of a voice so that all possible words and expressions could be used. Therefore, I took the voice of Stephen Fry who is the modern day Oscar Wilde.”

John laughed out loud, “That’s why it’s familiar! He narrated the Harry Potter books.”

Harold lifted both his eyebrows. “Yes, he did. He also played Wilde in a film by the same name. He is an active performer in several other movies and television shows. The affinity for Wilde as well as the wealth of spoken material made his voice ideal for Earnest.”

John handed Harold his tea and rolled the stool over to the monitor. “Uh huh. I’m just wondering…”

Harold tilted his head. “About?”

John took a fortifying gulp and just said it. “Root’s manuscript.”

Harold face darkened at the reminder of Ms. Groves’ delusional ramblings. John had been upset last night. Whenever John was upset Harold got very protective. Harold had even suggested they stop reading the material and just let the professionals have an edited version. John wasn’t sure what to do about that, but he soldiered on, “It’s just that Root called The Machine a _she_.”

Harold was about to speak when Earnest virtually chirped, “History has shown that mankind refers to something as ‘she’ when it is an object. I did not want to be considered an object anymore.”

John turned to Harold. “So earnest is now Sentient.”

Harold leaned forward. “Personally, I think not. We just aren’t there yet. Essentially, everything Earnest is doing is from my programming. Imitation of human characteristics is not the same as having a personality. Forgive me, Earnest.”

The laptop cursor blinked. “I agree with your assessment, Father. While I am not an object anymore, I am also not a true consciousness yet.”

Harold eased his tense shoulders and turned back to John. “My theory about Ms. Groves and her misgendering Earnest is simple: Ms. Groves has only ever shown romantic interest in women. From her past we can conclude that men - more specifically men’s sexual drive - disgust her and reminds her of a horror she would prefer to forget. Whether she is bisexual, pansexual, or other I do not know. I do know that she prefers those who identify as female. Therefore, the object of her adoration, _The Machine_ must be female.”

John shifted in his chair. “But she's fascinated by you. You’re male, as I well know.”

Harold squinted his eyes at John’s teasing. “As you noticed in her narrative she directed your sexual desires towards Detective Carter then killed off someone who might be competition for Sameen. In later chapters, she emphasizes my relationship with Grace to the point where I can not bear to send Grace away even after Root herself threatened my former fiancee.”

“Wait.” John was perplexed. “She has me hot for Carter and you hot for Grace?”

Harold shook his head minutely. “Not really. It’s more romantic and less sexual in her portrayal of my relationship with Grace. I would suggest that Ms. Groves sees me in a parental light.”

Harold’s gaze went internal, as if he was remembering something disturbing. “I recall one of the first things she said to me was, _‘I’ve been waiting my whole life for you’_ which was odd and troublesome to be frank. She never knew her father and her mother was sickly. Many children dream of having their _real parent_ show up as a King or a Wizard. The Star Wars movies have Luke discovering his true father for example. Harry Potter as you seem to be so fond has that childhood fantasy of _The Chosen One_ as well.”

John smirked. “Stakeouts and down-time are boring. If you can’t leave your room, audio books are a God Send.”

Harold smiled. “Well, if she sees me as her long lost father or the father she should have had then like most children, she would not like thinking about me having carnal desires. However, cute, adorable, older couples who are seen as past the point of passion would be where she sees me with Grace.”

John was reluctant to ask, but went on to say, “But if you're still in love with Grace wouldn’t you be with her now that The Machine is free?”

“One would think so.” Harold assured. “Root also makes me a doddering fool unable to make a clear, decisive move without her there to push me to act. So, I am attached to Grace, but can’t make a decision about letting her go or keeping her in New York City.”

John’s eyes widened. “She keeps Grace in town? After everything that happened why would you or I for that matter allow Grace to be in the same country with you? Root nearly killed her! Anybody who wants to get to you could grab Grace as leverage if she stayed.”

Harold dipped his head slightly. “Precisely. She needs for Grace to be a tragic lost love who keeps me tethered to the world or else my martyr complex and death-wish asserts itself.”

John outright laughed. “Harold! She doesn’t know us at all does she?”

Harold finished his tea, leaned forward, and sweetly mingled his lips with John’s. He pulled back a few inches to say, “She doesn’t know a thing about us, Mr. Reese.”

Their lips merged once more. John could do his yoga later. As they rose to head to the master suite, the laptop’s cursor blinked in a way one could almost call ‘merrily’.

~ * ~

**Author's Note:**

> The title is Latin for Username  
> This story has a sequel:
> 
> #  [Insigne Bellicae Laudis](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7566121) 


End file.
